lina, by Dr. Bartholo. The old Dr. is perfuaded to marry the Duenna; while Figaro and Susan are rejoiced at the removal of the great obftacle to their union. The Countefst then, to reclaim the Count by expofing his infidelity, perfuades Sufan to write a billet, promifing to meet him that evening in the pavilion in the garden. Figaro having difcovered that his bride had made an affignation with the Count, torments himself with a thoufand jealous apprehenfions, and carries Dr. Bartholo, the judge, Bafil, and Antonio, to be witneffes of the infamy of his fpoufe. The Countefs and Sufan having exchanged dreffes, the Count makes love to his own wife taking her for Sufan; and Figaro, in his paroxyfm of jealoufy, wifhing to retaliate on his master, finds he is endeavouring to debauch his own bride. After much comic embarraffment and confufion, every thing is at laft cleared up, mutual explanations and forgiveness take place, and the Count acknowledges that he has been rightly "ferved." Such is the outline of the work, which in general is filled up with fpirit and judgment. The characters are well fupported; and Figaro, Sufan, and their affociates difentangle themfelves from the embarraffments to which they are frequently reduced by their plots with much dexterity. But a clearer idea of the ftile and manner will be formed from an extract than from any detail that we could give. Figaro, in the fecond act, that he might divert the Count from his purfuit after Susan by rendering him jealous of his wife, fends him an anonymous letter, informing him, "that a "gallant, meaning to profit by his neglect and absence, is at "prefent with the Countefs." At the fame time, to make him confent to his marriage, he perfuades Sufan to promife the Count a meeting in the garden, where a page in her dress was to be her reprefentative. This rogue of a page is in love with all the women about the caftle, from the Countefs her felf to the old Duenna Marcelina; and the Count had taken fuch umbrage at his particular attentions to the females, that he had difmiffed him with a commiffion and fuppofed him then with his regiment. The Page is introduced into the apartments of the Countess to be dreffed; at that moment the Count arrives ftung with jealoufy by Figaro's letter, and has all his fufpicions confirmed by hearing his wife fpeaking to fome body in her chamber, and finding the door locked. He is admitted after the Page had locked himself into the dreffing-room. The jealous paffion of the Count, and the various emotions of the Countefs have the force and colouring of nature, and all the little circumftances which are introduced, and which give intereft to the scene, discover much much knowledge of the human heart, The Countefs, thinking that her lord could not be jealous of the Page, confeffes that he is locked up in her dreffing-room; this, from former fufpicions, raises her husband's fury to the highest pitch. In the mean while the Page leaping out of the window, efcapes unfeen; and Sufan, with infinite dexterity, perfuades her mafter, that she alone was the object of his jealoufy, and that the apparent terror of her lady was affumed to punish him for his unjuft fufpicions. Confounded and hu miliated, he afks pardon, and obtains it with feeming difficulty. In thefe circumftances the following fcene is intro duced. Enter ANTONIO, the Gardiner, with a broken Flower-pot under his arm half drunk. Antonio. My Lord-My good Lord-If fo be as your Lord fhip will not have the goodnefs to have thefe windows nailed up, I fhall never have a nolegay fit to give to my lady-They break all my pots, and fpoil my flowers; for they not only throw other rubbifh out of the windows, as they used to do, but they have just now toffed out a man. Count. A man!-(The Count's fufpicions all revive.) • Antonio. In white stockings! (Countess and Sufan difcover their fears, and make figns to Figaro to affift them if posible.) • Count. Where is the man? (Eagerly.) 'Antonio. That's what I want to know, my lord!—I wish I could find him, I am your lordship's gardener; and, tho' I fay it, a bet ter gardener is not to be found in all Spain ;-but if chambermaids are permitted to tofs men out of the window to fave their own repu tation, what is to become of mine ?" It will wither all my flowers to be fure. Figaro, Oh fie! What fotting fo foon in a morning? Antonio. Why, can one begin one's day's work too early? 'Antonio. Your lordship knows my niece, there fhe ftands, is to be married to day; and I am fure fhe would never forgive me if'Count. If you were not to get drunk an hour fooner than ufualBut on with your flory, Sir-What of the man?-What followed? Antonio. I followed him myfelf, my lord, as fast as I could; but, fomehow, I unluckly happened to make a false step, and came with fuch a confounded whirl against the garden-gate-that I-I quite for-forgot my errand. Count. And fhould you know this man again? Antonio. To be fure I fhould, my lord?-If I had feen him, that is. Count. Either fpeak more clearly, rafcal, or I'll fend you pack, ing to Antonio. Send me packing, my lord?-Oh, no! If your lordfhip has not enough-enough (Points to his forehead) to know when you have a good gardener, I warrant I know when I have a good place. • Figare, Figaro. There is no occafion, my lord, for all this mystery! It was. I who jumped out of the window into the garden. Figaro. My own felf, my lord. Count. Jump out of a one pair of stairs window and run the rifk of breaking your neck? Figaro. The ground was foft, my lord. being broken. ་ Figaro. To be fure I hurt my right leg, a little, in the fall; juft here at the ancle-I feel it ftill. (Rubbing his ancle.) Count. But what reafon had you to jump out of the window? Figaro. You had received my letter, my lord, fince I must own it, and was come, fomewhat fooner than I expected, in a dreadful paffion, in fearch of a man. 6 Antonio. If it was you, you have grown plaguy faft within this half hour, to my thinking. The man that I faw did not seem so tall by the head and fhoulders. Figaro. Pfhaw! Does not one double one's felf up when one takes a leap? • Antonio. It feem'd a great deal more like the Page. Count. The Page! Figaro. Oh yes, to be fure, the Page has gallop'd back from Seville, horfe and all, to leap out of the window ! 'Antonio. No, no, my lord! I faw no fuch thing! I'll take my oath I faw no horfe leap out of the window! Figaro. Come, come, let us prepare for our fports, • Antonio. Well, fince it was you, as I am an honest man, I ought to return you this paper which drop'd out of your pocket as you fell. Count. (Snatches the paper. The Countefs, Figaro, and Sufan are all furprised and embarraffed. Figaro fhakes himself, and endeavours to recover his fortitude.) Ay, fince is was you, you doubtless can tell what this paper contains (claps the paper behind his back as he faces Figaro) and how it happened to come in your pocket? Figaro. Oh, my lord, I have fuch quantities of papers (Searches his pockets, pulls out a great many) no it is not this!-Hem!-This is a double love-letter from Marcelina, in feven pages-Hem !Hem! It would do a man's heart good to read it-Hem!-And this is a petition from the poor Poacher in prifon. I never presented it to your lordship, because I know you have affairs much more ferious on your hands, than the complaints of fuch half-starved rafcals -Ah!-Hem!-this-this-no, this is an inventory of your lordfhip's fword knots, ruffs, ruffles, and rofes-muft take care of this--(Endeavours to gain time, and keeps glancing and hemming to Sufan and the Countefs, to look at the paper and give him a hint.) Count. It is neither this, nor this, nor that, nor t'other, that you have in your hand. 6 Countess. Tis the commiffion. 6 Sufan. The Page's commiffion. (Afide to Sufan.) (Afide to Figaro) Count. Well, Sir!-So you know nothing of the matter? Antonio. (Reels round to Figaro) My lord fays you-know nothing of the matter. Figaro. Keep off, and don't come to whifper me. (pretending to recollect himself. Oh Lord! Lord! What a stupid fool I am !—I declare declare it is the commiffion of that poor youth, Hannibal-which I like a blockhead, forgot to return him-He will be quite unhappy about it, poor boy. Count. And how came you by it? Figaro. By it, my lord? Count. Why did he give it you ? Count. To what? Figaro. To get Count. To get what? It wants nothing! Sufan. (to Figaro) It wants the feal. Figaro. Oh, my lord, what it wants to be fure is a mere trifle. Figaro. You know, my lord, it's customary to- Figaro. To affix your lordship's feal. Count. (Looks at the commiffion, finds the feal is wanting, and exclaims with vexation and disappointment) The devil and his imps! -It is written, Count, thou fhalt be a dupe!' This fcene, with the account of the preceeding ones with which we introduced it, will, we think give the reader no unfavourable idea of the performance. We have already faid, that it is profeffedly an imitation of the Spanish ftile of comedy; and in that line it undoubtedly poffeffes confiderable merit. The plot is perhaps too intricate in fome places; in the laft act particularly we are not fure that the effect is not leffened by over fatiguing the attention. Judge Guzman is too fervile a copy of the ftuttering lawyer in the Conscious Lovers. The foliloquies of Figaro are too long, especially his monologue in the fifth act. We befides think the subject not accommodated to the fituation. That Figaro, tortured with jealoufy, his mind filled with the fuppofed infidelity of Sufan, and he himself watching with the utmoft agitation to detect her criminality, fhould give us a long history of his life, which fills three pages, is furely contrary to probability. Thefe imperfections however do not detract from the merit of the whole; and we are happy that the public has given Mr. Holcroft fubftantial marks of its approbation. ART. IX. The Hiftory and Practice of Aeroftation, by Tiberius Cavallo, F. R. S. Svo. 9s. in boards. Dilly. THE public are certainly obliged to this philofopher for his prefent publication. No one in this country had yet written fcientifically upon this new and philofophic art. Mr. Cavallo's work is divided into two parts; the first gives the hiftory, the fecond, the practice of aeroftation. In the former . former part, the writer proves the modern date of the dif covery. There are two methods of preparing a balloon, fo as to make it afcend in the atmosphere, the one is by filling it with heated or rarefied air, the other by filling it with inflammable air. The former of thefe methods was first put in practice by Meffrs. Montgolfier, to whom the idea was fuggefted as early as the year 1782, upon the fimple principle of the afcenfion of fmoke, and the floating of the clouds in the atmosphere. The other mode with inflammable air depended upon more complex principles, and particularly upon knowing the properties and the weight of this air, circumftances which we owe to the late inquiries of modern philofophers, and particularly to Mr. Henry Cavendish, whofe paper upon this fubject was published in the philofophical tranfactions for the year 1766. It appears from a letter of Dr. Black's, to Dr. Lind, dated the 13th of November, 1784, that it had occurred to the former of these gentlemen, as an obvious confequence of Mr. Cavendish's difcovery, that if a fufficiently thin and light bladder, was filled with inflammable air, the bladder and air in it, would neceffarily form a mafs lighter than the fame bulk of atmospheric air, and would rife in it. This was mentioned by Dr. Black in his lectures in the year 1768, but he never had tried the experiment. The first perfon who really did try it, appears to have been our author, who in the year 1782, filled foap balls with inflammable air, which immediately afcended by themselves rapidly in the atmosphere. Mr. Cavallo's account of thefe experiments, was read at a meeting of the Royal Society on the 20th of June, 1782, but here from the failure of other experiments on the matter, together with the expences and lofs of time, the author deferred the profecution of them. It feems that after Mr Montgolfier's difcovery, the real principle upon which the effect of the aeroftatic machine de pended, was ftill unknown; for Mr. Montgolfier attributed it, not to the rarefaction of the air, which is the true cause, but to a certain gas fpecifically lighter by one half than common air-This circumftance not agreeing with the properties of inflammable air, which was known to be eight or ten times lighter than common air, it was thought that Mr. Montgolfier had discovered a new fpecies of gas, which was accordingly called by his name. This created a kind of confufion, inafmuch as in the accounts, the balloons filled with rarefied air, and those filled with inflammable air, were equally faid to be filled with gas, a term which properly belongs only to the latter fort of balloons. However, if a balloon filled with Mr. Montgolfier's gas, as it was called, afcended |